


If I go

by missgrumpgirl



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 00:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgrumpgirl/pseuds/missgrumpgirl
Summary: Is it enough to stay for someone else as long as you stay??





	If I go

**Author's Note:**

> *TRIGGER WARNING* for suicidal thoughts.  
> A couple songs I used during writing that I reccomend as a mood setter.  
> Dirty laundry- all time low   
> Happier- marshmello  
> Let it die- foo fighters   
> Heroine- bad flower  
> all I want- kodaline

Jon felt so tired. Not physically. well yes physically; but mostly mentally. Day in and day out, everything so…… much. And all at once usually. If that made any sense. Not that he could make sense of what he was feeling anymore. Or had been able to since who knows when. The heaviness always weighing down. Nothing ever seeming to get better. But he kept pushing because he had daughters and friends and work. It was enough to stay alive for them right? Even if he thought about death? even if he questioned his very existence? Even if he plotted a million ways he could die? He was still alive. Still here. Should it matter that he lived for them and if it were just him he would end it all? That was the question he stay awake pondering. Did the reason for staying matter as long as he actually stayed. He thought about that a lot lately. Mostly when he was alone. Which was most of the time. Not that that was anyone's fault but his own. People invited him out fairly often but he just couldnt do it. What if he did something to embarrass himself or said the wrong thing. And even past that he didn't have the energy. Everything took energy and he just didn't have enough. He barely was able to get out of bed and get to work let alone go out and socialize. 

It was like there was a stone in his stomach, sinking low weighing him down. Or maybe a blackhole would be more apt as it seemed to suck all  the light out of the room around him. Sometimes it took so much light he couldnt help but cry. He didn't know why and sometimes nothing triggered it. Sometimes it was things like seeing his coworkers laughing and happy. All the same he would feel the tale tale tears running down his face. Followed by the panic that someone might see and the worry that he might make them worry. And the shame that he was so weak and the embarrassment he might cause a scene. So many things that made the tears come harder. Only when he was alone, in the solidarity of his own home did he let it go, crying till there were no more tears left to cry. Till his face hurt and his hands trembled and the emptiness crept back in.

Jon sighed and looked at his clock. 3:30 am. He was supposed to be up at 7. Another sleepless night. He needed the sleep. He knew how to get it but he tried not to give in. Oh what the hell. he had done it so many times before. What was one more time? He sighed and let the fantasy form around him. Knowing eventually it would sink him into a blissful black. 

 

The scene jon set in his head was almost poetically beautiful. Almost. The wind was blowing around him. His hair whipped around his face. The sky was grey, heavy with impending rain. The clouds bunched up, angry and swollen but soft and fluffy at the same time.

A couple black birds sat on a telephone line. They cawdd and crowed at each other, carrying on some sort of conversation no one but them understood. There jabbering was sharp, perhaps they were fighting.

The ground under Jon's feet was rough. He wasnt wearing shoes. He could feel the bump of the concrete against his bare feet. He curled his toes to scrape against it, relishing the contact. 

Throwing his head back jon closed his eyes. Taking a deep breathe, jon felt the tension and the blackness he had been harboring for weeks exhale with the breathe in his lungs. His shirt clung to skin that he felt so foreign in. His pants hung loosely off his hips. His bones stuck out at they did in real life. A result of not being bothered to eat as much as he should. Opening his eyes, jon looked around and took everything in. The birds, the sky, the concrete beneath him. He drank it in as if it were the last time he were to ever see.

Walking around the square patch of pavement, jon began to pace, thinking, preparing. Tracing out a path, he felt more at peace than he had for who knows how long. With every step the blackhole he carried with him seemed to unravel and more light seemed to spill back out. And it felt so good to bask in the glow. Little sunbursts seemed to warm his skin as he finally came to peace with himself. 

Finally, jon broke his path and walked up to a small wall of sorts. It stood maybe a foot in height, made of the same grey cement as the rest of the roof. Looking over the edge, jon felt his breathe steal away. Not out of fear or regret, but in the way that it does when youve dreamt of something for so long and finally come face to face with it. Realizing it is exactly as you thought it would be. Twenty stories up, jon imagined this is how he would feel. Light and at peace. Finally able to relax, again able to breathe. The darkness lifting in those final moments, knowing it's already won. 

Jon imagined looking down seeing the ground as just a speck under him. Objects dotted the ground as just pinpricks to him. Looking forward the Austin skyline sprawled lazy in front of him. He thanked it for being his home. For housing him and growing him as a person. He asked it to protect those he left behind. This, gave him slight pause. even in fantasy he was remorseful about leaving them behind. Quickly he conjured another item next to him. A handful of balloons, the strings clutched in his fist. First he released two for his daughters. He wished them love and happiness letting them go. He released one for blaine that he may love his body and one for chris that one day hed find the love he was looking for. One for ryan to find the strength he seemed to project but jon knew he we still searching for. Balloon after balloon he released. Burnie, miles, zach, babs. With each balloon he said goodbye and good luck. Have the courage to do what I could not. And with the last one gone, he sighed. He knew instinctively he would have left them notes saying these things if he were really doing this. If he ever got the chance. For a moment he took a second to reflect. If he were really in this situation would he be able to do it? To take the final step? Or would he be afraid, unable to carry on. It was an interesting concept. Hypothetical courage vs real life drive. 

Shaking his head Jon returned and fully submerged himself in the fantasy. Putting one foot on the ledge, jon boosted him self up. For a second he felt a jolt of fear as he almost toppled over. Not at dieing, but at it not being on his own terms. But then he found his footing again and all was well. As he stood, on the precipice, he reflected on his life. He had done a lot and lived and lot. And perhaps he had finally hit his cap off point of living. Perhaps everybody else had different capacities for life and his was less than those around him. Regardless, he had had a mostly good life and that's what he wanted to remember. But most of all he wanted to remember the people so that's what he did.

As he stepped forward, taking the plunge off the edge, he remembered his people. Seeing each face he loved as he fell. His children, blaine laughing, chris smiling, burnie talking, Barbra teasing him. All the people that had kept him alive this long and would keep his memory alive after he was gone. It was them he remembered and he hit the ground. And it was there there cries he heard as the dark swallowed him. 

Anguished screams. Raw and real. Pleading for one more moment, one more breathe. A chance to see him. A chance to save him. A chance to be a better friend. To pick up on the signs to read more into the withdrawal, the moodiness. The things they should have seen. The tears, enough make an ocean. The bargaining, anything to save him. Please please please. Save him. Not him. It was this waiting in the darkness as he hit the ground. Each face that had coaxed him into peace now coming back . His friends, faces wet and throats sore, dressed in black, never to be the same. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Air wasnt coming as naturally. Stuck in Jon's head, was blaine. Arguably his best friend. Blaine had always been so strong to him and now, now he saw him so weak. Crumpled with his head in hands, wordless sobs coming out, holding a gift jon had given him years back. Something he would now never be able to part with. The last piece he had of his best friend. And if jon couldnt make it how could he? 

It was this jon saw as he sat up, alarm blaring next to him. His eyes were misted. Yes, he decided, it was enough to stay alive for them. As long as he was alive


End file.
